


Done

by andrean182



Series: Not Exactly for Combat [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrean182/pseuds/andrean182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Onslaught is <i>so</i> done with his team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done

“Your mission is _only_ to go to the Ark and put the package _in front of_ the front door! Even a protoform can do that!”

Vortex yelped as Onslaught’s fist met his face. It made him flew over to the wall. He screamed as one of his rotors bent at a painful angle. Tying to stand, he failed, and instead he sat and heaved himself on the wall.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses from you! You are confined to your quarter until you learn how to obey a _simple_ order!”

Beside Vortex’s previous place, Brawl cringed, trying not to move, knowing that he would be in the same place as Vortex when Onslaught done with him.

“And you!” the Commander’s finger pointed at him, still covered in Vortex’s blood. “You _do_ understand how atoms react at chemical level, yet you _don’t_ understand how to obey a single command?! Is taking a human hostage too complicated for you?!”

Brawl trembled.

“Someone has to teach this team some lesson!” Onslaught kicked Brawl hard, sending him over to Vortex. Brawl groaned, his muzzle bent a little from the impact. “All that I have are _stupid, ignorant glitches!_ This team couldn’t even _stand_ a direct, _simple_ order!”

Onslaught collected himself a bit, looking at the room. His office was a mess. The console was broken, his desk was unrecognisable, the large window behind him cracked. It was good at least that Vortex and Brawl did understand how to take a punishment, and they didn’t say anything.

It was when he finally, _finally_ , could think straight and about to lift them to the medbay, the door opened.

Blast Off and Swindle entered, looking battered. Swindle was nearly unconscious in Blast Off’s hold, his frame dented here and there with blood scattered over it, one of his optiques cracked and off, there was a gaping hole in his chest. The shuttle wasn’t much different, the heat shield in his left arm was gone, his masque torn open, his visor cracked, he was walking limp.

“Blast Off… reporting… uhh.” He put Swindle on the floor, next to Brawl and Vortex, and stood in front of Onslaught. “This… s-stupid hothead shot at the Autobots.”

Onslaught stared at him.

Blast Off tried his best to make his voice free from static. His vocaliser took quite damage. “He shot at them and m-made… ourselves known. I wasn’t… able to outrun them w-without a fight… uhh…”

Onslaught’s anger boiled again. “Even you?!”

“I’m sorry, c-commander Onslaught… I failed…” the shuttle slumped in his place. “Permission t-to see o-over Hook, sir.”

Rage boiling again, the truck tried to hit the shuttle on the face, but stopped, knowing that it wouldn’t do him any good. Blast Off was the most obedient of them, anyway. “Stupid, stupid glitches! All of you! Everything I have is stupid, inobedient, _useless_ scrapheap of metal! I should’ve had you all reformatted into trash cans and put you in front of the front door!”

Blast Off looked down, knowing that Onslaught would hit him, sooner or later.

Onslaught forced himself to calm down, his hand covered his face. “Okay, that’s it.”

The shuttle didn’t look up.

“That’s it. I’m done.”

Onslaught walked past Blast Off to his room to get some high-grade.

Blast Off looked up. Fortunately, his commander fist didn’t meet his face.


End file.
